


I would still choose you

by Ellanor



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, mutual blame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellanor/pseuds/Ellanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was some youthful infatuation on my part. I found her... compelling."<br/>"You never acted on it?"<br/>"She was one of my charges. It would have been...inappropriate." </p><p>-  Cullen & the Inquisitor in Inquisition</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Cmessaz's Cullen Romance Mod in Origins (http://www.nexusmods.com/dragonage/mods/1949/?) this is a two part ficlet concerning the eternal 'what if' question regarding the feelings a Surana and Cullen could have had for each other. Small mentions to custom female Surana & Hawke even if I tried not to mention the forenames I've chosen for each.

The tavern in Lothering was bustling with noise, even more now that refugees were everywhere carrying their pleas of help and hungry bellies. Or at least this is what Danal, the tavern-keeper kept saying to whomever went to ask something. In all this agitation Surana found it a miracle, that she managed to sneak away some chairs for her small party to sit on in front of the fire. Tomorrow at first light they were to leave Lothering for a new destination, only the Maker knew where to go first. This particular day seemed to pass so fast. Ever since Ostagar time seemed to move faster than she was used to. Back in the Circle every day was like the one before: studying magic, reading whatever book she deemed interesting, the conversations between the Apprentices, **the usual**.

But now… the sound of the screams in the battlefield filled her head again and again. She and Alistair have kept their promise, they succeeded to light the fire in the Tower of Ishal. What for? _Teyrn Loghain was to be crowned king by his own hand. The Wardens were declared traitors and there was a bounty on their heads._ There was a feeling of molten rage burning inside her: she has known King Cailan for less than a day, alas he deserved not the death he received. Nor Duncan… The kind yet stern face of the older Warden came in her memory. She should have known something would go wrong. Her fingers were playing absently with the medallion around her neck, at first not even noticing the fact. But when Alistair’s voice interrupted her way of thoughts, Surana realized the amulet was sitting in her hand.

“What is that?” he asked, half joyous. She wouldn’t have expected anything else. It was quite visible Alistair tried his best to remain his old joking-self, but under that large smile of his and funny words there lied deep sadness and sorrow. Surana disagreed with Morrigan that morning when she mocked him for that. By the Maker, only a few days passed since Ostagar and Surana herself didn’t feel like dancing of joy. Her fingers encircled over the small thing, as if wanting to hide it away from the eyes of her companion. It was too private, it was not something she wished to share just yet.

“Just a small trinket. Nothing more.” Knowing he will not receive more, Alistair turned to speak with their newest member in their party, Leliana. Surana’s thoughts went to the owner of this small, unimportant trinket. Duncan has looked at her, as if he knew, when she left the Senior Quarters caring her belongings. Not too many, mind her. **He** had been there…and the look he gave her when she left for the stairs to the Apprentice Quarters. Maker have mercy…

Surana had dreamed of leaving the Circle, but never dreamed of coming to the village of her birth again. Eadric asked her once, when she apparently seemed to steal his reading light where she was from. At first the thought of telling that she had no idea crossed her mind, but after she simply said Lothering. Why? Perhaps the only mentioning of the name brought some faded childhood memories to her, long ago, long before she was ripped off from her family. Then she remembers the two of them descending in an intricate discussion about learning the lost tongue of the elvhen. But it is not the time to recollect such a memory. She had asked around a few people that day, even refugees. Sadly no one seemed to know of a Surana family of elves. They must have moved to Denerim or who knows.

She sometimes wondered if her parents missed her. If she had a brother or sister. But every mage is taught to give up any hopes of family and love and all the small things those ungraced by magic were freely having without even knowing. Every mage is taught that the way of the Maker is the only one and that their magic was meant for being enslaved and never used. But Surana always dreamt of joining the Dalish, of learning of the old ways of the Elvhen, a life far from Kinloch Hold where her magic was not seen as an abomination but as something worthy of celebrating. She gritted her teeth in frustration without even realizing. Enchanter Surana would have no say in this matter, but she was no longer enchanter was she? She was now Surana of the Grey-Wardens, survivor of Ostagar and embarked on a sacred duty of ending the Blight. Quite a few titles acquired in just a few days.

Her eyes descended upon the amulet. It was nothing special, but only the fact that is was gifted by him made her treasure it, as if it was made of pure gold and encrusted with jewels. He had given it to her just after her Harrowing, as a gift of her succeeding. The elf half smiled to herself…he had given it to her just after they shared one of their rare more intimate moments. The **last** of them if she came to think about. Had she known that would be the last time they shared a kiss, she would have remained in that moment a little more, before it waxed and waned. Now he was hundreds of miles away from her, from her grasp, from her touch. Surana imagined him sitting at the time of the dinner, surrounded by the other Templars, but feeling so alone, not touching his food, starring with an empty gaze into nothingness. “Ma vhenan” she would say to him, watching him looking perplexed or questioningly at her ( be this of her choosing ), not knowing what to reply to such a thing. In truth she considered herself lucky to have found the book “Translating the Elven Languages” in the Apprentices Library. In the Circle of Magi you were a mage first, then an elf or a man. But to her this was a relic of her people, something she will not let the others destroy. She hid the book after the discovery, somewhere only known to her.

Sometimes she wondered… how this all came to pass? Cullen was only eighteen when he joined the Circle as a templar. She has been there since her early child years. A boy so youthful and bright, why choose such a life? Surana was no fool. She knew it will never last, it was never truly meant to be, not as long as she would be made tranquil for the littlest of mistakes. Still, this never prevented her not to just enjoy the moment. Cullen who stuttered whenever he was speaking with her, Cullen who would always watch her when she was reading to the young children, Cullen to whom this amulet belonged…

“What do you think?” Leliana’s blue eyes were set upon her, bearing the mark of questions and Surana had to blink a few times before realizing she had been asked a question. “I asked whether you think Lothering is nice, silly.” Leliana laughed, seeing her confused look.

“Hm, yes.” She cleared her throat while taking a better position on the chair. “I truly had the time to admire it in-between killing bandits, giant spiders for venom and the infestation of bears. Adding trap and poison making and mediating all the conflicts around. Remarkable sight.” Humor has never been her strongest point but when Leliana started laughing, the elf looked startled at both Morrigan and Alistair.

“It is not always this way. It had better days.” But Surana’s eyes were distracted by the sight of a cooper skinned woman, bearing eyes blue as iced snow, who stood close to them, seemingly arguing with two others in her likeliness.

“Bethany you have to understand! We cannot remain. The darkspawn horde will be here in just a few days and by then we should be far away.”

“But what about mother? What about our life here?” Bethany objected, bearing a distressed look.

“All will be burned to the ground. Do you think the darkspawn will just let our house stand? We should be already miles away. We should have left since the first rumors about the darkspawn.”

“We shouldn’t argue right here. There are too many people.” The third spoke, a man who resembled Bethany. The three must be siblings, Surana thought.

“And where should we argue Carver? I don’t want to upset mother more than she already is.” The first woman responded to her brother, looking as if she would slam her fist on the table at any moment.

“Hey Hawke!” Danal’s voice came from the counter. “I already have my tavern full of pleas and cries and angry people. Don’t need you making a show around.”

The elder Hawke shot the keeper an icy look then raised and left, followed by her twin siblings. Although, even without their argument the room was still quite loud. Surana decided to return upon her small group of companions. Alistair now petted the mabari who was near the fire, trying to catch as much warmth as it could. Leliana and Morrigan talked some nonsense about the Chantry life and Sten simply stood. There was no emotion on his face, no movement. He just stood and gazed into nothingness. With a weary gaze, Surana closed her eyes and even with all that sound around soon sleep found her.

***

_The deep…they called from the deep. They shouted and marched to the surface. Closer to them, closer to everyone. She saw them, an army without end and the archdemon leading. They are coming._ With a scream of horror, Surana shut her eyes wide open and raised frightened, her face bearing the taint of sweat. Alistair woke up from his slumber immediately and watched her alarmed, yet when he saw there was no trace of their camp being attacked he gave her a reassuring smile. These dreams come to the newest of wardens, he told her. The rest of the company stood around, some woken from their sleep by her shout but now delving back in, some being awake in the first place. They had left Lothering only a few days ago and Surana’s thoughts lingered at the whispers she heard, told by some refugees in the shadows. Some of them were complete nonsense, but others seemed to carry a seed of truth. Others seemed so real. With disappointment Surana found that sleep will not grace her again that night, so she decided to simply stay and meditate.

Where should they embark to? Alistair stood steadfast in his decision to visit Redcliff first, Morrigan advised that seeking the aid of the elves firsthandly would be most wise, Leliana wished to see Denerim but Surana longed for the sight of the tower. Mainly after the dark rumors she kept hearing. It was an ironic thing, a freed bird longing to return to the cage. Most mages were not as lucky as her. The elf-maid snorted at her definition of luck: tore apart from the only life she has ever known and given the opportunity all caged mages long for. Even more, there will come no Templar after her, she will not be branded as an apostate and she was free to use her magic. Is this not what she has always wished? If they managed to stop the Blight, if they succeeded Surana imagined she would embark on her own quest, find her family or meet some of the Dalish. But until that time a whole army of darkspawn and an archdemon stood in-between.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired and condoned by this wonderful post ( http://princessstabbity.tumblr.com/post/143128544756/a-quick-trip-to-the-gallows-for-solona-amell ) this is the last time Cullen and the Warden will see each other.

Warden-Commander, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Hero of Ferelden, Surana disappeared from the light of the big courtyard and hid herself in the shadows, at the shelter of a column. He didn’t see her…good! From all the places in Thedas, from all the places in this world he got to be right there, right now, in the courtyard of the Gallows at the **same** time she was. Maker have mercy! There has been a time, some four years ago when she would not be ~~afraid~~ cautious of his sight, but now… Now she didn’t know what to feel anymore when the matter concerned him. Commander Surana took a quick glance then quickly removed her eyes. He stood near the stairs undisturbed and seemed not to notice anything strange. Perfect. The mage took a deep breath and mentally scolded herself. She acted like a child! A mature individual would just go to him, greet him, ask him of his well-being; alas she preferred caution to politeness.  The last words he had addressed her four years ago have been most unkind, hateful and desperate, yet not even then did he succeed in changing her mind when she had to save the Circle. She chose her brothers and sisters over killing merciless. And probably this cemented the rupture between them. They belonged to two different worlds. The time when they both forgot this was a sweet memory.

“Messere, do you have business here?” a voice interrupted her thoughts and Surana’s hand went to her staff almost too quickly, almost forgetting she was standing in a courtyard full of Templars and here even her title would not protect her. Yet the Templar who spoke to her had a kind face and he was tall and possessed a beard and hair brown as fresh wood.

“I was looking for a friend. I see he is not here. I shall go and come back later perhaps.” She responded, not stumbling or stuttering (or giving the impression she was doing anything else than her words affirmed). In truth the only reason Surana came to Kirkwall was because of rumors of a grey-warden in hiding there. Perhaps her judgment failed her, but the Gallows might not be the best place for seeking information.

“If you need help I know every person around. Who are you looking for?” but before Surana could answer, the sound of a voice came to them.

“Thrask!” it shouted from somewhere. “There’s some Apprentice who…” “I’m coming!” he replied, leaving without giving Surana a second glance. It was time for her to leave, she started already attracting unwanted attention upon her. She gave another glance in **his** direction and saw him surrounded by a group of four, yet she moved her eyes and walked in the direction of the boats.

She came then the next day again, this time choosing as an unsuspecting activity to chat with a dwarf merchant selling armor there. Their topics were of **tremendous** importance: from the best material for armoring, to metal resistance and the effects of different weather on the shine of the chest plate. Surana almost expected from moment to moment to feel a hand upon her shoulder, to turn only to see his amber eyes set upon her. But such a moment never came. Neither then, nor the next day when she spoke again with kind Ser Thrask, nor the one after. He seemed not to observe her no matter what! After a week Surana decided that she stood in hiding _enough_. The next day she will march straight to him and… and she could not do it.

That evening the Warden-Commander stood in a tavern in Kirkwall’s Lowtown, (the Hanged Man was it called?) and drank some cheap beverage to drown her bitterness for some time. She was confused and tired and numb. Too many happened in too little time. Only a few weeks passed since her meeting with Morrigan and Surana wondered if she took the right decision then: questioning Morrigan, demanding the answers she hid, then simply letting her pass through the eluvian, through the artifact of **her** people. She will not lie. For a brisk moment there had been a wish in her mind to follow Morrigan to whatever destination the mirror led to, to leave behind her life here and meet the unexpected. But that moment was brief and unimportant and long passed. Surana left for Kirkwall only after the promise of reuniting with Ariane again, so that the dalish warrior could introduce her to the keeper of her clan Solan and show her some of the old ways. Ariane must have been joyous, now with her mission accomplished and the tome returned to her clan. Her thoughts then carried on to Velanna. During her time as the Arlessa a great friendship was bonded between them and likewise Surana promised to return and lead her help to Velanna in finding Seranni. Though she highly doubted Velanna will ever be able to find her sister again.

Has Cullen ever thought of her? After the ending of the Blight Surana’s first destination was Kinloch Hold. But when she arrive and asked, no one seemed to be able to give her an answer regarding Cullen’s fate. The only thing they knew was that he was transferred. Only now when she visited the circle again while tracking Morrigan, it was revealed that the location of the transfer was Greenfeel. And now Kirkwall. Damned it be! Of course at that time she had no thought of travelling to Greenfeel to look for him and was content to let the memories of their time together gather dust, be forgotten. Would he still look the same at her? Surana remembered the look of utter terror the Templar gave her back in the time when she was rushing to the final confrontation of the Circle. How he believed she was but a dark desire a demon created to ensnare him. How if he believed she was real if only for a second, he would break. _The one thing I always wanted but could never have._ It broke her heart. With all the caution and awareness she always said she possessed his words still broke it. The mere sight of her reminded him of the abominations his fellow Templars were transformed into, of the days he suffered alone and terrified. Perhaps this was the reason she had not spoken to him. Perhaps it was better this way. Would he love her the same way if the mere sight of her terrified him?

Her eyes rose from her drink to the room and there she saw them again. The same group that was talking to Cullen a few days ago. Yet now there were not four but more. A white-haired elf bearing the most fascinating tattoos Surana has ever seen was standing grumpily in a corner, looking as if he would at any moment slam his fist on the table and leave. Near him there stood…Isabella! She looked different that last she remembered back in the Pearl in Denerim. Another elf came then who looked innocent as a doe. Near her a red-haired woman was seated who would sometimes smile at a man, both bearing the armor of the city guards and seeming quite close. A fair haired dwarf followed and Surana could swear hearing him call the man next to him _Blondie._ Last there came a woman with cooper skin and crystal blue eyes who was happily laughing and smiling at Blondie.

“Another round of drinks for the Champion?” the waitress asked and suddenly Surana realized the woman was none other than Kirkwall’s Champion, the one everyone was talking of, her deeds crossing the ocean to the south and west. The blonde man turned his face and Surana almost, _almost_ shouted his name. Anders. Last she heard of him, three years ago he was declared dead! The soldiers of Vigil’s Keep found his body, burned and torn apart. There he stood laughing merrily and holding the Champion close. The Warden-Commander took some time debating whether to make herself known or not. At least two in that company already knew her and all that took was for one of them to turn their heads in her direction. The discussion they would bear should be interesting. ‘I thought you were dead Anders but here you are.’ and ‘No Isabela, I still am glad I declined your offer back then.’ Was Anders the Warden in hiding she was looking for? If he was in hiding then he surely hasn’t been discreet about it. Perhaps they could enlighten her on the current situation in Kirkwall and serve her precious information.

“Hey Hawke! You do realize this story is going straight into a new book, right?” The dwarf said, drinking at the same time a full tankard of beer. _Hawke_. The name told her something and now that she thought of it, the face of the woman was not a complete mystery to her. But where had she seen her?

***

Over Kirkwall night was slowly descending and the smell of salt and the cry of the gulls in the air announced a night as serene as any other. Of course if one lived in Hightown. For the rest of the unlucky citizens of Lowtown or Darktown the nights were always more dangerous than the days. Rarely there was one courageous enough to brave the streets at night, yet for Hawke this has never been a problem. Most of the thugs knew that if you were unlucky enough to cross the paths with the Champion and engage in battle, they will not catch another sunrise. Yet there are some who never learn. From a low smuggler to the Champion of Kirkwall…that was quite the change, Hawke thought while she was walking through Lowtown followed by Anders, Merrill and Fenris.

At the line of the horizon a red trace slowly formed, announcing the coming of another sunrise and slowly the citizens of Kirkwall rose, preparing for another day of toil. Soon after the sunrise, more and more people started to prowl the streets, buying and selling merchandise, generally minding their own business. By the time of the noon the whole city was boiling with the events of the night past. In the Gallows as another day began so did the duty of the Templars. The gates were raised and the mages opened their small shops. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. (as much as ordinary means in a city such as Kirkwall) Commander Cullen stretched, looking visibly tired while he walked to his position. The night before was again filled with nightmares and that left him weary and exhausted. Many times he would wake at night screaming in horror, his body all sweat and his heart beating fast. He dreamt again of being alone and surrounded by demons who whispered him of desires. Then the sight of mages followed, who would smile friendly to him at first, then start laughing villainously while they cut their arms and the sight of blood filled their skin.

He had promised to himself, a long time ago, that after the events of Kinloch Hold he will never question again the methods used by the Templars. Some of them were harsh, but effective. Yet, the more mages the Templars took care of, the more they appeared. Their task seemed never-ending. And even if many of them were rumors, it seemed the Champion kept their side. Maker he even heard of a whole network designed for them! The Templar will never allow himself to be trusting one of those again, not after Kinloch Hold. He feared those nightmares, but there was one he feared the most. It began just like the others, him alone in that circle of magic, surrounded by laughs and screams. But instead of the sight of his fellow Templars being butchered or of the mages becoming abominations, it was **she** who watched him. She would sit there, on the other side of the barrier, making him signs to follow her, stretching her hand to him. But when he raises his arm to her, a demon appears from somewhere behind and cuts her throat, then drags her in the shadows. Cullen would scream and bump his hands in the magical wall, but he never could pass to the other side, he never could help her.

Last he had seen Surana, she was leaving the Circle for Denerim after freeing the tower of Uldred. He…he had said some terrible things to her. Cullen regretted them, but what was regret good for now. He heard many things about her after the ending of the Blight. She became the Warden-Commander and a great supporter of freedom for the elves and mages alike. Did she even remember him?

This day alike many others, passed with no noticing event, that until sundown. Evening was close when he saw an apprentice coming to him. Curious, the commander stood steadfast in his position and awaited.

“Ser this is for you.” The apprentice said before handing him a small trinket and turning to leave. Bewildered, Cullen examined it for a bit before realizing what the object was. It was the amulet he gave her before she left the tower to be recruited as a Grey Warden. It was unmistakable! In shock he ran after the apprentice and called him to stop.

“Who gave you this?” he asked, looking how the apprentice cowered in fear.

“I’m sorry Serah.” The boy almost shouted, raising his arms. “It was a woman I think. Her face was covered but she said to give this to you and then she went in the directions of the ships. I don’t know more! Please I’m no blood mage, don’t make me tranquil!”

But Cullen was not listening anymore, as he was already running through the corridors of the gallows to where the ships brought the Fereldan refugees some years ago. His heart was beating fast and his mind was racing, but he kept running. The sun already started to disappear at the line of the horizon and the sea water was colored in shades of red and pink by the time he arrived. There was no ship standing there, but only one sailing, barely visible in the distance. There was no one left on the docks, just him, the others finishing their work of that day. Cullen remained there, watching how little by little both the ship and the sun disappeared. He stood in silence at first, then his disposition changed from shocked to angry and finally calm. His eyes traced the form of the object and observed little change in it. She had taken great care of his gift it seemed.

The man simply couldn’t find the words to explain what he was feeling. Why just simply give him the amulet? Why not hand it to him personally? Five years passed since their last meeting…but why now? Why not after the end of the Blight. Why not during his stay in Greenfeel? Probably because she couldn’t stand the sight of him after what he told her in Kinloch Hold. He couldn’t condemn her. And why keep the trinket of someone you despise? She was Warden-Commander, he was no longer part of her world. More than sure in five years she has met someone else, someone who would not scream at her in horror, or accuse her of being a demon.

The sun was long passed and now the darkness of the night fell and the gates were soon to be closed, yet Cullen remained a bit more in that spot and meditated. Now, in the darkness of the night no one would see him if he broke a little. So much time passed, since he felt this overwhelmed, but he couldn’t help it. From all the people he could fell for, he had to love a mage. Let us say those events never came to pass, that he would still have remained his young and innocent self. There was no future for them even then. What if she died in the Blight? Even as the Warden-Commander, Cullen couldn’t abandon his duty for this. He simply couldn’t. What if she remained in the circle and remained pregnant? They would move her to another Circle and him to who knows where? No matter how he looked at it, there was simply no way for this to work. Only if he abandoned his post as a Templar, and that he could not do. ‘I wanted to become a Templar since I was five.’ he remembers telling her; sharing with her some instances of his childhood. ‘I am glad that you followed your wish then.’ She told him in return. ‘Otherwise I would never have met you.’

Cullen kicked angrily with his foot in empty air, then stared for a few more moments before taking the way back to the courtyard. With a discreet gesture, he slipped the necklace around his neck, under the armor. Perhaps he will see her one day again. Perhaps he will have the chance to apologize to her, make things right. Until that day will come, he was to wait.


End file.
